


it's not easy

by lanaboke



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst, Blood, Death, Depression, Explicit Language, M/M, Self-Harm, Suicide, Volleyball
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-13
Updated: 2021-03-13
Packaged: 2021-03-20 18:21:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,245
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30009006
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lanaboke/pseuds/lanaboke
Summary: hoshiumi always wanted to tell hirugami how he felt. now he's too late.
Relationships: Hirugami Sachirou/Hoshiumi Kourai
Comments: 1
Kudos: 6





	it's not easy

**Author's Note:**

> i hope you enjoy this short story i wrote (in literally less than a day)!!!
> 
> leave your comments/kudos if you'd like!  
> \- guests can comment & leave kudos, too!

"isn't it lovely?"

.

.

it's not easy telling someone how you feel.

.

.

"what is?"

the sun was already shining on the other side of the world, the wind was slow and barely there as the stars splattered onto the darkened sky. the grass was becoming cold, but it wasn't too bad - just the fact it would cause their skin to scratch from contact with it. the grass wasn't too cold as it grew not on some hill near a tree like most couples would be seen laying on in cliche romance movies or described in (also cliche) romance novels, where either the story starts with them as friends in which one falls for another and the one who loves the taken one must confess and steal them from their partner, or its enemies to lovers where they hate each other to the point they actually fall in love with each other. 

this is why i hate those types of stories.

unlike what most think about me, i don't favor most books and films, especially romance ones. many see me as the usual enthusiastic, proud little guy who plays volleyball, and becomes happy when people are in shock of the things i can do on the court despite my shorter height. i'm quick to become irritated, especially when people fail to show impressed looks when they mention my height. that also ticked me off, but i'm able to ease up and calm down rather quickly. 

that night, i had jeans on, my timberland boots covered my feet as its strings were tied together tightly. i had a shirt and a jacket over it, my arms crossed underneath my head as i stared up at the sky above me, laying on the grass of some city park in nagano prefecture, japan. i never really liked laying on grass before, and i was sure i would never enjoy it like he does, but i wanted to give it a try. for him. only for him.

he wore a darker shade of jeans, tennis shoes and a huge jacket that covered some pale colored t-shirt underneath. he was much taller than i was, me standing at 5'6" while he stood at 6'3" - a full nine inches taller. i wasn't jealous, nor intimidated, by him. rather, i was . . . pitiful, if that explains how i felt bad for him being so tall, when all he ever felt was small.

a kind fellow, he was. he was calm and had a composed demeanor. he's not the type to become easily distracted, he can stay focused for a while, letting him process information like some unfazed machine. he's always calculating in that brilliant brain of his, highly observant of everything that surrounds him. he's a calm soul, very good with words, known for his "pretty privilege." he's never done anything wrong, so i was never sure why he was known for that, "getting out of trouble because he was pretty" - that never sounded like him, ever. 

he looked as if he was a runaway prince, hiding away from royalty, living as a normal boy. he was so pretty, his voice was so tender and sweet. the prettiest boy. 

"looking at the stars," he tells me with a grin, though he continued to stare at the sky above us both, "they're lovely."

i wasn't sure how to respond.

"yeah," just like you.

it became silent again, only the faint whistle of the wind was heard. i could feel the grass rubbing against my skin, but it didn't bother me. nothing could when i was with him.

soon enough, i had grown tired of the silence so i spoke again, starting a new conversation between him and i. 

"have you figured out if you wanted to go yet?" i ask, slightly hoping he knew what i was referring to.

he was quiet.

"go where?" 

"to prom," 

"oh,"

maybe he wasn't that good with words. or at least when it came to things he wasn't very sure about.

"i haven't really given it much thought," he admitted, "but i'll probably end up going. it's high school, ya'know? take risks and do stuff you never thought you'd actually do." but then he took in a deep breath, "though, dances were never my thing to begin with, so i might sit this one out. not sure yet," 

i nod my head, "you're right," even if i had wanted to go to prom without a doubt since i was like seven. 

i heard an owl hoot as it sat on the limb of a tree in the distance. it was as clear as day as it had become quiet again. the quiet was relaxing to an extent, but i liked excitement, the thrills, the joy. but he enjoyed the quiet. he enjoyed peace, clear noises that you could hear from the other side of a silent room. it could be as quiet as an empty room and he'd sit there, reading a book, enjoying himself because that's who he is. 

"are you planning on going?"

"yeah," i nod my head again, "it seems like it'll be cool," 

"of course, you'd go to an event like that because it 'sounds cool,'" he mocks my tone, "but do what you want, i'm sure you'll have fun there."

 _are you okay?_ "probably," i let out a laugh, "you know i am."

"you've always been the party animal," he said, "i wouldn't be surprised if you were the talk of the town for weeks after that." his voice gave me butterflies in my stomach.

i laugh again, "yeah, i guess i have been a bit of a party animal lately." 

once again, it was quiet. he wasn't good at continuing conversations, apparently. though, i didn't mind. because . . . yeah.

me and him have known each other since we were in middle school. we were students of the same year, had the same teachers, almost same schedule. though, i was in class one while he was in class six. it was almost like a match made in heaven, except the part that we weren't together, unfortunately. it was sad, sure, but i had been working up the courage for months to tell him. to tell them

but that's the thing.

it's not easy telling someone how you feel. 

* * *

"you look nice,"

i lift my head to see him standing there, approaching me with a grin on that pretty face of his. 

"hirugami," i say quietly, "you're here."

his name was hirugami sachiro, a 2nd year in high school like me. a calm, pretty boy that every girl seemed to fall for when they first see him. "love at first sight," right? 

i stood on the front porch of my house, previously closing it with my back turned, facing the street in front of the house as i locked the door. my parents were asleep already upstairs, and my older brother was already out doing whatever with his friends. i was wearing a nice suit that i personally thought made me look amazing, i wanted everyone to see me and think, 'wow! even though he's short, he definitely knows how to look good!'

but hirugami, he wore a dark navy blue suit, it was tight around his arms and legs, but it was still loose enough to let him feel comfortable. he had a silver watch on his wrist, a couple rings on his fingers. black shoes that were shiny and brand new. he looked dashing, rich, formal. better than i did, by far. 

he looked as if he was going to a formal event, like a banquet or a charity party. 

his face came into the light from the porch light, his eyes had its reflection glistening. everything else behind him and around him was dark, hidden by the darkness of the night, as i stared at him while he stood there, his hands in his pockets, grinning - no, smirking - at me.

"t-thank you," i tell him, "you look nice, too."

"oh, i'm sure," hirugami replied almost immediately, "my mother picked it out for me so i could look the best there,"

i smiled, "well, you're definitely looking better than me." 

he laughs. "that's a lie," 

he took a step towards me, then another, and then another.

"kourai,"

i felt my cheeks heating up.

he raised his hand to my face, placing his palm against my heated cheek. 

he rubs his thumb against my cheekbone, a bit roughly, then he grinned.

"sorry, you had an eyelash on your cheek," and he took his hand away from my face and stepped away from me. i felt my heart crack a bit. he heads down the sidewalk from the porch, turning and putting his hand out for a moment, "you ready to go?"

sometimes, i wish i had told him already. there was a chance he liked me back, but i didn't want to risk getting rejected and losing him. 

he was my best friend. i don't think i could ever live without him.

"yeah," i nod, "i'm ready."

but it's not easy telling someone how you feel.

* * *

prom was a bit boring. 

i didn't enjoy it as much as i thought i would.

on the way home, hirugami glanced at me as he drove his car across the long bridge, driving it to my house to drop me off. we had less than five minutes until we would arrive there, and knowing that, hirugami began a conversation.

"i saw you were dancing with one of the girls in my class,"

i turned to him. after a moment, i reply. "oh, you did?"

he looked at me again, right as i turned to look through the front window of the car once again, sitting in the passenger seat, my hands resting on my thighs as i sat there, feeling his stare as he stopped at a red light at a cross road just about 20 feet past the exit of the bridge.

"yeah," he turned back to face forward again, "you looked like you were having fun."

"i was," i clear my throat, "but i don't necessarily like her." that was true, i didn't like her. i could tolerate her, to an extent, but i still didn't like her. i just danced with her out of pity since she had no one dance with (because her boyfriend dumped her that morning for another girl who he was dancing with at the prom), so i danced with her, though i also hoped hirugami would see and become jealous of her. jealous i was dancing with someone other than him.

"oh, that's too bad," he said, "she seemed like she liked you."

"yeah," _but i like you._

* * *

third year started off like the last two years did: normal.

i walked into the school with the same pace as i did when i walked out of the school. 

it was a normal day, like any other day before or after it. i never really enjoyed school, but i liked hanging out with my friends there. i was always happy at school, minus the times i get irritated when people aren't impressed with me due to my short height. 

heading down a street, my hands gripped the straps of my backpack. the sun was beginning to set, even though it would be awhile until the sky was fully dark.

along the sidewalk where i walked on, there was a chain-link fence. it was about eight feet tall, much taller than i was. it was grey, it shook lightly with the wind. 

i heard the chain ring on the fence in the distance in front of me. i raise my eyebrow, but i continue down the sidewalk, fastening my pace a bit. i approached a boy with curly brown hair, sitting against the fence, just a couple feet away from the brick part of the fence. 

blood dripped on the sidewalk, staining the bricks, turning his knuckles a bright red. 

my eyes widened, realizing who it was.

"sachiro," 

the boy's head perked up and turned to me, his face full of panic, blood rushing through his veins and out of his cuts on his knuckles.

he hurt himself, on purpose. self harm, at its worst. 

"kourai-" 

"why are you harming yourself?"

"huh?" his eyebrows raised quickly, out of surprise.

i point to his hands, walking over to him - "you're hurting yourself, but for what? you- you need your hands for volleyball, hirugami, why- why are you hurting yourself-"

"it's their fault!"

i gasp.

he gets up, but stays on his knees, his bloody hand clutching the shirt on his chest. his tearful eyes stare at me, 

"it's their fault i made those mistakes! it's their fault- it's- it's their fault i'm not good enough!" he whimpered, his breath hitching as tears streamed down his face.

he was a perfectionist, always wanting to be the most flawless person, trying not to make any mistakes, but he was insecure.

insecure, hating the mistakes he makes, working himself to death to make up for them. he . . . he blamed his own hands for those mistakes. that's why he did this.

"it's not their fault, hiruga-"

"how would you know that?!" 

i take a step back.

"you're so fucking perfect," hirugami shuddered, "you don't get to do that, tell me that i'm wrong when i know that i'm a hundred-fucking-percent right, hoshiumi."

"will you shut your mouth?" 

hirugami leaned back a bit, taken back.

"you are the most perfect human person i have ever met, sachiro," i spoke firmly to him, feeling as tears formed at the corner of my eyes, "any possible mistake you've ever made would never matter because you are that fucking perfect. you are more than enough, you are great. you are-" i hitched my breath, "-you are everything."

his eyes are dancing as he cried, not sure what to say.

"you're too good,"

my jaw becomes agape. "huh?" 

"you're too good of a person for me," he repeated, "too good of a friend."

right. friend.

i sigh, "yeah, yeah, but come on," i head over to him and reach my hand out to him, he stares at my hand, then looks back up at me, "let's go get you cleaned up."

and he takes my hand.

* * *

i grabbed my phone off the bench after hours of practicing volleyball with the rest of the team. hirugami stayed home that day because he was sick, and i had stopped by earlier to give him food to stay healthy and medicine that he could take in order to get better quickly. though, it had been hours since then - and all i've gotten from him since then was one single text.

| **hirugami** [9:04pm]

i'm sorry, hoshiumi.

i stare at my phone in confusion, but then my heart began to pace as i read the message over and over and over again. i was panicking, so it slid my phone into my pocket, and turned to my teammates. 

"i gotta go, i'll see you guys tomorrow!" and i ran out of the gym, hearing them call out to me, but i didn't pay attention to what they were saying. i ran down the sidewalk, across roads, racing to the house that belonged to my best friend. the boy i cared most about. the boy that made me smile. the boy that made me laugh. the boy that made me happy. the boy i was so deeply in love with.

as i ran, i felt the feeling of regret fill me as i realize what may have happened, the one thing i wish wasn't the case. but i wish i would've told him, even if i was scared to.

it's not easy telling someone that you're crazy for them. that you're so deeply in love with them. that you would do anything for them. that you would even die for them.

unfortunately, he seemed to have done that for me.

when i approached the house, there was a cop car parked out front, its siren was off but the lights were still flashing on top of the car. my heart broke, tears streamed down my face. 

_"it's their fault i'm not good enough!"_

i ran into the house, right past the cops, slamming the front door open. i ran up the stairs quickly and opened his bedroom door. and there he was.

i was escorted out of the house soon enough, and later, i watched his lifeless body, now zipped up in a black body bag, taken and put into the back of an ambulance to be taken to the hospital's morgue. i knew i would never be the same. life would never be the same after this. after the loss of the boy who i thought to be my soulmate. 

i knew nothing could ever pain me as much as his death pained me now. processing this, knowing i'll never be able to see his face again. never able to hear his voice again. never able to hear his laugh again. never able to eat his cooking again. never able to feel his touch anymore.

never able to tell him how i felt.

* * *

the funeral was quiet.

sitting there on the bench, listening as the priest spoke of who he was, even if he never even met him. i sat next to his mother, she wiped away her tears silently every few minutes. his father sat with a dead expression, he seemed angry, hurt, sad - all at the same time. his sister and brother sat with their heads facing the floor underneath their feet, hiding their hurt, saddened expressions from the loss of their brother. 

it had been two weeks since he died.

i haven't been to school since the day it all happened, before he took his life. 

i hated how he took his life. he had stood onto a chair, a noose around his neck that hung from the ceiling above him, and with a knife, he cut his wrists and tipped the chair forward, causing it to fall forward, breaking his neck, ending his life.

and that life - it was full of ups and downs, struggles and joy, happiness and sadness. he hated every part of it, but so did i. his life turned into a bad one, bad enough for him to leave this earth, to leave me behind.

he's gone now, and i still miss him more everyday. i wish i could've done something more for him. he was my best friend. the boy i loved so fucking much. i should've tried harder to help him. i should've been there for him, i should've hugged him more. i should've told him i cared for him more. i should've helped him.

but i didn't, and now he's gone.

i didn't help him enough. in the end, it was me who was the one that wasn't good enough. not him.

it was never him that wasn't good enough. he was always the better one. always. and will always be the better one.

because i loved him. i was so in love with him. 

but always, in the end, it all comes down to one simple thing that everyone should know when thinking about love, about that certain someone. that one simple thing.

that it's not easy telling someone how you feel.

but i wish i told him.

i really wish i did.

because maybe that would've given him a reason to stay.

**fin.**

**Author's Note:**

> i hoped you enjoyed this short story!
> 
> more stories will be out as soon as possible! bye!


End file.
